Thanksgiving, Extreme Edition: The Craziest Holiday Traditions

You think your holiday traditions are crazy? Read about a woman who smoked a turkey outside — in Alaska — or the eat-a-thon at Joan Rivers's house, and other Thanksgivings served up with a heaping side of "You've got to be kidding me."

As an Army wife of 18 years, Michelle Polhamus, 42, has hosted Thanksgiving in Alabama, Colorado, Kansas, even Germany, no problem. But a few years ago, she found herself off the grid and out of her element — in North Pole, Alaska. Still, she wasn't about to let a little thing like the weather (38 degrees below zero) get in the way of a good meal, so Michelle and her husband decided to cook a 22-pound turkey in a free-standing smoker. Outside. On their front deck the night before Thanksgiving.

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After tossing in apple and cherry wood chips, the couple bundled up at 6 p.m. — a balmy 2 degrees at the time — and placed the turkey on the grill. They trudged outside every two hours to monitor its progress, crashed at 2 a.m., and woke up at 8 a.m. on the big day to discover that it was smoked, all right...but raw on the inside.

"What we did that first Thanksgiving is considered a 'Cheechako' mistake," Michelle says. "A Cheechako is anyone new to Alaska who hasn't been through a winter." She salvaged the turkey by baking it in her oven for 4½ hours. "It was amazingly moist and wonderful," she recalls, "but I don't think I could ever repeat it...nor would I want to!"

These days, Michelle, her husband (Lieutenant Colonel John Polhamus, due home from Pakistan in time for Thanksgiving), and their three children live in somewhat-less-remote Fort Wainwright, AK. Visiting their parents in Florida and Tennessee — 7,000 miles away — isn't realistic at Thanksgiving, but they've compensated in other ways. "When you're on assignment, the military is the only family you have," she says, "so we extend invitations to other military families, and each one brings a favorite dish."

Michelle, an at-home mom, has gotten savvy about outsmarting the cold. She makes meticulous food-shopping lists because, she notes, "I don't want to go to the grocery store more than once. It can take 10 minutes to get your car warm enough to drive!" Yet the frigid temperatures do have their benefits: Their neighborhood begins to look a lot like Christmas in September, when people hang lights before it gets too cold. Also, the family's 12x12-foot screened back porch doubles as a walk-out freezer. "I make pumpkin pie and cheesecake pie five days ahead of time, wrap them, and leave them on a table," Michelle says. They're in good company; the turkey's out there too, bought in October before stores sell out.

Everyone watches football after dinner, then they head outside to a bonfire with hot toddies for the grown-ups and hot cocoa for the kids. The celebrations don't end there: The following day the family cross-country skis, rides dog sleds, and takes a dip in some local hot springs. And nobody mistakes them for Cheechakos.

Comedian, actress, and Fashion Police host Joan Rivers, 77, cooked the Thanksgiving meal for her family... 30 years ago. "It was so terrible we had to send out for deli food," she recalls. "My husband said, 'You can write a joke. Get out of the kitchen.'"

Virtually ever since, Joan has hosted a catered dinner for family and friends in her New York City apartment, complete with waiters, place-card seating, and a pianist friend who plays show tunes. The feast includes (deep breath, please): five appetizers (such as caramelized-onion-and-goat-cheese tarts), first-course pasta (pumpkin tortellini), pumpkin soup (served in a carved-out pumpkin), roast turkey, smoked ham, six sides, and six desserts. No detail is overlooked — even the ramifications of eating so much food: "My nephew's a doctor, so he's right there if anything happens."

Handing over her oven mitts has allowed Joan to spend Thanksgiving morning with her 9-year-old grandson, Cooper, taking meals to New Yorkers suffering from AIDS and cancer through God's Love We Deliver. People know in advance that she's coming, but Joan still manages to surprise them: "I sit and gossip. I'll give them a tidbit about Lindsay Lohan so they have a story to tell people!"

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The love and laughs continue at home, where, Joan says, "I ask every single person to stand up and say one sentence describing what they are thankful for. One year Cooper said, 'I am thankful the Yankees won!'"

Though her celebration is grand, Joan simplifies matters by using the same menu, linens, and decorations every year, including a 21-foot-long table that has to be carried up seven flights of stairs and then assembled. "Looking down and seeing everyone sitting there in a good mood," she says, "that kills me!"

Ask Lori Berger why she began hosting 60 people at her Los Angeles home and she'll blame her in-laws. "There is a fear of salmonella in my husband's family, so their philosophy is 'Cook it till you kill it twice,'" says Lori, REDBOOK's special projects director. "The turkey ends up beyond dry." Craving a better bird, this 40-something mom started a day-after-Thanksgiving tradition of dinner for a few friends. Over the years, it grew and grew (and grew) as the group had children and roped in other pals. But one thing stayed the same: Lori cooked almost all of it, including a 25-pound turkey, five Cornish game hens, and a honey-baked ham.

"I was caught up in the Superwoman thing," she says. Six years ago, though, she took off the cape. "I was completely stressing out, and I realized that was ridiculous!" She hired a woman she calls "Ruby the Goddess," who works five hours that Friday for $200 (plus a well-deserved tip). Ruby refreshes serving platters, helps with cleanup, and guards the kitchen so Lori can cook in peace.

Another savior: "Costco. I love it the way some women love Saks Fifth Avenue — it's a fantasyland," Lori says. "The cheese and wine selections are better than the best gourmet stores in town." Over the years, she's learned to let things go: "Forget china! I buy huge paper plates with turkeys on them and sturdy plasticware." Lori's sons pitch in with grocery shopping, and her husband, Rich, provides nonstop cleanup services. "I'm a tornado in the kitchen — there's flour on the ceiling by the time I'm done. Rich cleans up after my mess," she says, gratefully.

Guests pour their own drinks and serve themselves from a gigantic buffet on the dining room table. The kids entertain themselves with Ping-Pong and darts while the family's 95-pound yellow lab, Moose, roams around, on the hunt for crumbs.

Once it's over, Lori returns borrowed tables and chairs from friends and collapses in bed. The day after, she's a happy wreck. "I get up with the biggest food and party hangover," she says. "I get into my sweats and don't even take a shower, and spend the whole day nibbling."

As a chef and caterer, Maili Halme Brocke, 42, is used to producing events in large spaces. The Thanksgiving dinner for 32 she's hosted with her husband at their Ventura, CA, home is much smaller in scale — it has to be, given that her kitchen, dining room, and living room total 500 square feet. "We're all together, no matter what!" she says, laughing.

To squeeze everyone in, Maili and her husband, Jason, move out most of the living room furniture the weekend before Thanksgiving. "We stack pieces in our shed and fill the laundry room with piles," says Maili, a mother of two kids, ages 12 and 11. "Sometimes pans or pots we didn't get to wash end up in there too!"

Finding places to serve food is a tad trickier: "I don't have room for a buffet," Maili says, "and there isn't space on the tables for gravy boats or side dishes, so I serve on the kitchen counters and off the stove, usually in whatever casserole dish or pot things were cooked in. It's actually good, because I keep the pilot lights on the stove, so it's like one of those warmer things. We move the turkey to a platter — and put the carcass in the oven."

Given the limited space, keeping people out of the kitchen isn't an option, though Maili doesn't mind: "I am one of those people who can talk and cook at the same time." There's just one thing she worries about: "Parking is a serious challenge!"

1. Vinaigrette: Add vinegar, mustard, salt, and pepper to a blender. With the motor running, gradually pour in the olive oil in a steady stream until mixture starts to become emulsified. Add the water and continue to blend until completely emulsified. Makes about 1 2/3 cups.

2. Haricot Verts: Heat a large saucepan with salted water to boiling. Add haricot verts and blanch about 3 minutes or until beans are still crunchy and bright green. Immediately drain and rinse in cold water; pat dry.

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3. In a large bowl, add the green beans, cheese, pecans, mint, and 1/3 cup of the balsamic vinaigrette, tossing to combine. Reserve remaining dressing in the refrigerator up to 1 week for other use.

2. In a large skillet, heat butter over medium-low heat. Add onions, stirring to coat, then cover and sweat, 5 to 7 minutes or until onions are translucent. Remove cover, stir well and increase heat to medium. Cook, stirring frequently until onions are well caramelized, about 5 minutes.

3. Add wine and reduce until wine is evaporated, about 3 minutes. Transfer onions to a bowl to cool. Season with thyme, salt, and pepper. Crumble in goat cheese, stirring until well combined.

4. Spoon mixture into phyllo shells, place on a baking sheet, and bake 10 to 12 minutes or until mixture is heated through and browned on top.

2. In a large bowl, whisk together the pumpkin, milk, eggs, sugar, pumpkin pie spice, and salt until combined. Spread mixture in the prepared baking pan. Sprinkle the cake mix on top of the pumpkin mixture; lightly pat down. Drizzle with melted butter. Bake 60 to 80 minutes or until top is browned and crunchy and pumpkin mixture is set. Serve with whipped topping.

2. In a large bowl, whisk together the flour, cinnamon, baking powder, baking soda, and salt.

3. In another large bowl, whisk together the sugar, pumpkin, eggs, oil, and vanilla. Add flour mixture, whisking just to combine; fold in the walnuts.

4. Divide batter between the two prepared pans. Bake 60 to 65 minutes or until cake tester inserted in centers comes out clean. Let cool in pans 10 to 15 minutes, on wire rack. Run flat spatula around outer edge of breads, then invert onto wire rack to cool completely.